Simple Comfort
by pebbles66
Summary: A bit of fluff dedicated to VHunter.


_For VHunter: hope that things look up for you very soon!_

Simple Comfort

Rain in February is never a welcome thing, and in London the combination of rain, cold, and dense fog was most unpleasant. The entire house seemed to be hunkering down against the chill, and though a warm fire blazed in every room, 221B Baker Street held an atmosphere of melancholy and emptiness. Both Mrs. Hudson's tenants were out, and the house was quiet and still in their absence. Except for one room.

Mrs. Hudson didn't mind the rain and fog as long as she didn't have to be about in it. Indeed, it put her in the mood for experimenting with her cooking. She was happily puttering about in the kitchen, humming a little with her work, when she heard the front door bang open and the sound of muttering filled the hallway. From the sound of it, one of her lodgers had returned home in a foul mood, and the aggravated muttering didn't bode well for the continued peace and silence she had enjoyed all day. She sighed a little before putting on the kettle and taking down the tea tray.

She peered around the door jamb into the entrance hall to see Dr. Watson standing there, absolutely drenched, shaking the rain out of his coat and hat. The good doctor was normally very even-tempered, but in this instance his face was as dark as the weather outside, and she briefly wondered what could have possibly occurred to send him into such a mood. He continued to mutter beneath his breath, and though she couldn't make out the words, Mrs. Hudson had no doubt they were not words to be spoken in polite company.

She cleared her throat to alert the doctor of her presence, and he had the grace to blush slightly as he jumped at the sound, turning around to face her.

"Oh, hello Mrs. Hudson," he said quietly. "Sorry about the water; it's miserable weather today, isn't it?" He hung his overcoat and hat upon the pegs with these words and started for the stairs.

"Yes, it certainly is, doctor. And you're looking a mite miserable yourself, too," she finished, with a knowing look at his pronounced limp and haggard face. "I've just put the kettle on, and I've made some ginger biscuits. How does that sound?"

"That would be most welcome, Mrs. Hudson; thank you" the doctor answered, and Mrs. Hudson heard his quiet sigh as she hurried back into the kitchen and he continued up the stairs.

As she assembled the tea tray Mrs. Hudson wondered again what had the doctor feeling so low. This had been one of his mornings to work at St. Bart's, and he'd sent word that he wouldn't be home till late afternoon because of a huge influx of patients sickened by the typical diseases brought on by the weather. Probably he hadn't had time for lunch. Perhaps he was just overly tired, she mused, though that wasn't typically enough to dampen his usual cheerful disposition.

As she ascended the steps with the tray, Mrs. Hudson could hear the doctor's limping footsteps as he paced around the sitting room. As she stepped into the room, the doctor abruptly flung himself into his armchair, propping his injured leg up on the ottoman kept for that purpose, and let out a low growl of disgust. Seeing her, he sat up and began to struggle to his feet, but she stopped him with a gesture, setting down the tray, and pouring a cup of tea. Preparing it the way he liked it, she added a couple of biscuits to the saucer before handing it to him.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. This looks wonderful" he sighed, subsiding back into his chair with a grateful sound.

Mrs. Hudson took the opportunity to study her lodger as she finished taking the tea items off the tray. Dr. Watson _did _look tired. He'd been at the hospital since early this morning, and knowing him as she did, she was sure he'd been rushing about between patients with no break. His leg was obviously hurting in the cold, wet weather, and she noted too that he was holding his left arm stiffly as he did when it was paining him. His medical bag lay open on the floor beside his chair, and he had obviously just taken a pain reliever, as the half-full glass of water at his elbow indicated. He sat now with his head leaned back against his chair, eyes half-closed, still shivering slightly as the chill of the outdoors left him.

Mrs. Hudson took the afghan off the settee and laid it over him, tucking it in around his legs and feet. Dr. Watson looked at her in some surprise, then smiled in gratitude. She returned the smile kindly.

"Mr. Holmes will be out for supper tonight, doctor" she said. "I've been experimenting in the kitchen today, and I've got some nice, hot soup and fresh bread for you, and a bit of apple tart for afters. Does that sound all right?"

The doctor looked up at her with a genuine smile of relief and Mrs. Hudson was relieved to see that the black look was leaving his face to be replaced with his more usual cheerful attitude. "That's the best thing I've heard all day, Mrs. Hudson. It sounds absolutely perfect!"

"Then I'll have it up to you as soon as may be. Can I get you anything else now, before I go downstairs?"

"No; I'm feeling much better now that I'm warming up, thank you. I'll just be looking forward to that soup" he replied with a contented sigh, grinning up at her sleepily from his place before the fire.

Mrs. Hudson nodded, pulling the door closed behind her as she went back down to the kitchen, leaving the doctor to enjoy the simple comfort of a warm fire, a hot meal, and someone who cares.


End file.
